A Signed Piece of Paper, the new album by Lace Curtains, is an album that pleases the more you listen to it. Judging from the initial listen might make the album seem off-putting and, frankly, weird as anything, but after paying closer attention, it reveals an experience like no other. The tracks take a lethargic, often absurdist tone, and maintain a garage-band feel that isn’t so common anymore.
The album incorporates an energizing indie rock flavor. It stands out among other more mainstream music, maintaining a grungy edge with an underlying darkness.
In addition, an intentional lack of refinement distinguishes the album — the vocals are unpolished, and the music itself is simple and organic. These are not bad things. In fact, they’re quite refreshing. The raw manner in which the band performs sounds akin to older music created without the sterilizing techniques of music studios today. The roughness of the tracks allows the album to seem more authentic, more truthful.
The opening track, “The Fly,” is less about the insect and more about the people who society often regards as insignificant. Michael Coomers, the lead singer, says, “The fly knows that you don’t like him / He likes it,” and it becomes clear that Coomers isn’t referring to an insect. “The Fly” is, rather, a sharp insight into the minds of the marginalized, whom people shoo away because it’s inconvenient to acknowledge those who are less privileged.
By extension, the commendable lyricism throughout the album adds complexity with its euphemisms, casual slang and frequently ridiculous metaphors that would make Lana Del Ray proud, to say the least. With lines such as, “There once was a bird they taught to speak / I didn’t know him,” and, “All those angels wearing high-top jellies,” the album savors its own absurdity in a self-aware way and strives for deeper meaning through creative melodies.
Both the musical arrangements and Coomers’ flippant, yet straightforward delivery show The Velvet Underground’s influence on the album. This is most obvious in “Be Good,” which relies on candidness and a simple arrangement to get its point across.
Another stand-out track is the closer of the album, “Crocodile Tears,” a song that takes obvious pleasure in being offbeat and weird. Its opening lines include such gems as, “On that third bottle of wine / Looking up photos of Kim Kardashian.” It isn’t the album’s most serious addition, but it’s certainly one of the most fun, with its nonsensical riffs about enjoying another’s company and wanting someone back.
However, the album can feel a bit meandering in its focus by lacking a common element among the tracks. The story it tries to tell is unclear. A Signed Piece of Paper shows strength in regard to its songs on an individual basis, but considerably weaker as a cohesive whole.
In addition, the lyrics paint strokes too broadly at times, such as in “Glass of Sand,” when Coomers states, “I said don’t be the surfer, be the waves,” which sounds like something an angst-ridden teenager would write in a self-indulgent poem.
The album is at its best when it isn’t trying to put supposed “grand truths” into semi-relatable terms, and instead offering snide social commentary or honest confessions, such as in “Be Good” in which Coomers says, “I figured I’d write back eventually, but that turned out not to be true.”
Overall, A Signed Piece of Paper is consistently solid and attempts to welcome back a vintage style of music with flair.
